By Maria Bregman There is a particular strain of modern historical fiction that offers its readers a terrible comfort. It takes a monumental injustice, an…
By Maria Bregman There is a version of Latin America that exists primarily for export. It is a continent of the senses, a place of…
By Maria Bregman André Maurois wrote biographies, but he was less a historian of facts and more a sculptor of character. In the lives of…
By Maria Bregman There is a certain kind of French novel that functions as a high-end emotional spa for the international reader. In its pages,…
By Maria Bregman Every year, the Booker Prize longlist offers a map of where the English-language novel is right now and, perhaps, where it’s headed.…
By Maria Bregman There is a particular kind of British comedy, a strain of satire perfected in smoky panel shows and righteous stand-up specials, that…
By Maria Bregman Every generation is given Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons as a kind of literary consolation prize. It is presented as a masterpiece of balance, a…
By Maria Bregman A holiday is the perfect time to read a book you might otherwise put down. Not a light beach read, but something…
By Maria Bregman There is a particular kind of literary reverence reserved for the ‘crisis of faith’ novel. We are invited, with hushed solemnity, to…
By Maria Bregman Not long ago, I watched a celebrated academic, a man whose books had once reshaped his field, struggle to share his screen…